Page 13 of Red Waters

Yury laughed. “I do like my girls clean. I’ll tell you what. I can offer you cold running water.”

“Meh.” I shrugged while choking on terror. “I prefer warm.”

“Your master is only offering cold.” He pulled out a cell phone. “But first I need you to call your parents.”

I sat up straight. “Really?”

“Yes. Tell them you are loving Paris.”

My body deflated. “Oh.” I knew my parents would believe the lie. My voice shook, no matter how hard I tried to calm it. “Can I call Link instead?”

Yury rolled his eyes. “Sure, and the American Embassy.” He handed me the phone. “Call your parents. No Link. He will hear your fear.”

“How are you so sure my parents won’t?”

A taste of regret washed over his face. “Your father gave your brother up freely.”

My Timothy…Yury was correct. And I knew it. My parents would’ve easily traded me in for another rise in the political world, gaining pity from the public while discarding a mistake. I asked, “Do your parents love you?”

After a slight hesitation, Yury, agitated, gestured to the cell phone. “Call.”

Since my predicament was beyond horrendous, finding my Whit balls was imperative. To test boundaries, I bargained with the devil for a simple request. “Warm water.”

Again, Yury smirked. He stared at me, seeming to be contemplating. Then he bowed his head. “Warm water.”

I tapped my mother’s cell phone number into the phone’s keypad. She answered on the first ring. “Hello?”

No matter how she’d treated me my whole life, I was in such a dire state that I couldn’t help but feel relief—hope even—hearing her voice. “Mom?”

“Dear, what number is this?”

There was no “How are you?” or any sign of emotion from my mother. I closed my eyes knowing she is probably as cold as Yury. “The hotel’s, Mom, here in…” Yury smacked my knee. I jumped, shocked by the pain. “P-Paris. I’m in Paris.”

“How lovely, dear. Do enjoy the sites. I must run now. Your father needs me.”

I wondered if she realized I didn’t ask to speak to him—hadn’t since I found out about him trying to dispose of me as if only a pebble in his corrupted career path. I wondered if she knew about the payoff money. I wondered if she knew what truly had happened to my brother.

It was then that I understood she had to have known. Her son was murdered, yet she claimed he overdosed due to his drug problem. According to Mr. Jones, Timothy never touched any illegal substance.

Mom knew everything.

My eyes opened so I could stare at Yury, so he could see how I was truly offering myself to him for Link’s sake. “I’m calling to say goodbye, Mother. There is no need to continue the façade. You don’t love me, never will. Be well.”

There was silence, then, “I think this is best for all. Goodbye, dear.”

And there it was, the moment I was utterly alone in the world, defending the young man who loved me. Chances were no one would ever know my sacrifice.

I whispered goodbye to my mother then hung up, feeling dead inside. Handing the phone back to Yury, I solemnly said, “You are literally using against me the only person who cares for me on this Earth.”

I was bewildered when Yury kindly took hold of my hand. “You are lucky to have one.”

Clinging to Yury’s hand, hoping it would be kind to me as more of this ordeal unfolded, I whispered, “Will I ever see Link again?”

“Frequently, if you behave.”

As my body lit up with hope, I asked, “How? Will you fly him here?”

“Only if I plan to profit from him.”